Dark Angel
by Dee474
Summary: Captain Tom Paris sets out to capture the Maquis Ship, the Val Jean with the assistance of former Maquis turned observer Kathryn Janeway. AU. ensemble cast.
1. 2358: Prologue

**Author's Note:** This originated as a oneshot that popped into my head while I was having a bad week. On this particular day, I needed an outlet for my dark thoughts. Hence my favorite character – Tom Paris, if you haven't read my short bio - turned into the Dark Angel. Melodramatic, I know. But that's the mood I was in.

Then, as my bad week turned into a bad month, or two, or three, my story grew and lengthened. This is the story I worked on when I felt like hitting back at the universe. My life has evened back into normal, but I'm committed now that this story has become a whole new arc on its own. I'm not sure how long it is going to be, but it isn't short, and I haven't finished writing it.

I also have a ten year old son and a husband who are totally into superheroes. Consequently, this story may be slightly over the top in places. But, hopefully you will enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it anyway.

I have also started on prequel to this story as well because … well, my husband wanted me to have more of Tom's background in this one. But I wanted to do something different to my other story and focus on DQ Tom Paris. So, I compromised. I began a prequel. There may be some similarities in this Tom's background to the one in my Second Time Around universe. But there will be differences too.

Finally, this story is rated T for a reason. I was not a happy camper when I started writing it, so there are one or two graphic scenes of violence depicted.

 **My eternal thanks to OPYKJ for beta-ing the first fourteen chapters that I've written so far. Any mistakes are mine, though, because I've made some changes since OPYKJ first looked at it.**

Apparently, this chapter didn't upload properly, so I have taken the opportunity to make a minor change to my chapter lengths.

 **Disclaimer.** I do not own Paramount or CBS. Consequently I have only borrowed the characters and the setting. No copyright intended. Only the storyline, and original OC's belong to me.

 **C** **hapter One**

 **November 23, 2358.**

"Sh'Endira, I love you! Marry me?" declared the fifteen year old. Tom Paris' joyful, exuberant smile was wide, and his eyes shone with a mixture of love, adoration, and excitement as he gazed intently at his girlfriend.

The sixteen year old Andorian-Trill took a deep, disbelieving breath as she looked at the small blue velvet box that Tom was holding.

Inside it, a Terran engagement ring lay nestled in soft fabric. The exotic centrepiece featured an Andorian diamond surrounded by tiny sapphires. The stones were held together in an intricate pattern that hinted at the majestic Trillin Ice Eagle which had been the inspiration for the design. Sh'Endira gasped in delight at the ring's beauty even as she marvelled at the beautiful spirit of the ring's creator. Her eyes opened even wider in wonder as she recognised the precious gems.

Her memory flashed to their first meeting the year before, at the prestigious Federation Mentoring Program for Gifted Young Teens. To begin with, all the program participants - ranging in age from ten to eighteen - had stayed in their familiar social or species groupings. Then, during a field trip to the Larrakeyahn mining colony, they had been assigned into groups of four. She and Tom had been teamed with two older teens who had grasped the opportunity to run off for some 'private exploring'. Consequently they'd spent a lot of time over the next week getting to know each other while they went gem hunting. The two of them had been finding ways to meet, in secret, ever since.

Glancing once more into Tom's vivid blue eyes, Sariffa Sh'Endira Daout returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own. She ruthlessly suppressed the voice that kept reminding her that they were too young (Tom wasn't even of legal age with his parent's permission, let alone without it), that all four of her parents hated Starfleet, and anyone connected to it; that she had been told many times to 'keep away from that boy.'

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "Of course, I will marry you. I love you, too." _We'll run away together._ She told herself. _Somewhere far away. We'll say we're older, get fake IDs. Somehow, we'll find a way to be together._


	2. Feb 2371: The assignment

**February 28, 2371 (13 years later)**

Captain Paris continued to look carefully ahead, face expressionless, as he was given his orders.

Retrieve former Lieutenant Commander Janeway from New Zealand. Check.

Take his ship into the Badlands. Check.

Capture the Maquis rogue ship, The Val Jean. Check.

Bring the rebels back for questioning, and eventual trial. Check.

As Admiral Jellico, his new superior officer, gave the orders, the captain rigidly maintained his patented Starfleet impassive face. Not even the twitch of an eyebrow was evident.

The Admiral frowned as he pretended to glance through his briefing notes. This was his first personal face-to-face meeting with this particular captain since taking over as the sector's commanding officer. He was finding it difficult to reconcile the person before him with the teenager he had first encountered almost fifteen years previously. That young man had been an irrepressible bundle of energy with an angelic smile that belied the mischievous soul within. Bright and sunny in personality, he would lighten the atmosphere of a room just by walking into it. Jellico's wife and love-struck daughter had playfully referred to the teenager in their private table talk as the Golden Angel.

Sadly, there was no sign of that engaging personality left in the self-contained and formidable officer before him.

With a deep breath, the Admiral continued the brief. A short two minutes later, Edward Jellico glanced surreptitiously at the officer's face as he completed his monologue. Nothing. Not even a hint of the man's thoughts on his assignment peeked through. But of course, that was why this man had been chosen for the job above countless others. His emotionless, ruthless adherence to the Starfleet way was well known throughout the fleet.

Quickly, the Admiral gave his final instructions. "Any questions or concerns?" he asked with an open enquiring face, futilely hoping to elicit some kind of personal feedback from the young man he'd once considered a good candidate to be his future son in-law. "No, sir!" came the immediate response. With a tight, brief smile Jellico dismissed the officer.

As the door closed behind the second youngest captain to ever grace Starfleet, the Admiral's smile dropped. Taking an uncharacteristic moment to lean back in his chair, and prop his feet on his desk, he pondered the enigma that was Thomas Eugene Paris.

Early in the piece, there had been many who had assumed that the officer's meteoric rise through the ranks stemmed from his family's contacts and position. They had been wrong. And very few of the man's subordinates stayed in ignorance of that truth for long. Captain Paris ran a very tight ship. He was well known for his exacting standards and strict observance of Starfleet protocols as well as his eidetic memory. The man knew the regulations backwards, forwards and sideways. Even Vulcan crew members were known to freeze, and hesitate momentarily, before answering a summons to the Captain's Ready Room a second time. In fact, he knew several Admirals who privately admitted to quaking in their shoes when having to deal with the man. In comparison, his father, the infamous Admiral Owen Paris, looked like a clawless pussycat.

Thinking again of the golden youth that he had first met, he shook his head, and sighed with regret. _What had happened_ , he wondered. No-one, not his Section 31 contacts, or even the man's father, had been able to come up with the reason why this Golden Angel had turned into the dark, forbiddingman who had just left his office. It was a real mystery.


	3. Commander Cavitt

**March, 2371**

As the door closed behind him, First Officer Aaron Cavitt squared his shoulders and walked smartly up to the Captain's desk. Carefully, he assumed the 'At Attention' position.

"Reporting as ordered, sir," he enunciated clearly.

The Captain looked up at him and smiled disarmingly _. Oh oh_ , Aaron thought to himself. With an effort he forced his limbs to remain immobile, and not to relax into the 'At Ease' position. He was neither stupid nor suicidal.

"Commander, said the Captain, still smiling. "There is a rumour going around that you and Doctor Fitzgerald have a problem with a couple of our new crew members. Care to give me your side of the story?" The captain's voice was soft and silky.

The Commander couldn't help the involuntary shudder that ran through him. After only five months as Captain Paris' XO he knew what that smile, combined with that voice, meant. He definitely felt like the proverbial fly being invited to dinner by the spider.

 _How did he find out so fast? Whatever happened to the old maxim that the Captain is always the last to know?_

"Yes, sir," he said instead. His mind running at warp speed, the commander rushed to put the most positive spin possible on his actions. He had a sinking feeling that it was a lost cause.


	4. Harry talks with Kathryn

Ensign Harry Kim smiled as he slid into a seat opposite the red-headed 'observer.' She looked up at him and scowled, deliberately oblivious to the friendly vibes radiating at her in waves. "Now what?" she demanded in a gritty, harsh voice. "Haven't you got the message yet? I am bad news. Best to stay away from me. If you know what's good for you and your shiny new career."

Harry grinned at her in response. "I don't think that the Captain agrees with you, Kate."

The red-head snarled. "That SOB. It's his fault that I'm stuck here having this conversation with you. Him and his slick, glib tongue. I should have known better than to trust the words of an Irishman."

Harry shook his head. "No way. You're wrong. Haven't you heard? The Captain was really unhappy when he found out how some of the crew have been treating you … and incidentally me - for being your friend. He discovered that Commander Cavitt and Doctor Fitzgerald were the instigators of the bad treatment. They are going to be spending the next two days cleaning out Jeffreys Tube 34 with a sonic de-gauzer while listening to the computer dictate chapter 15 of the Starfleet Manual to them."

Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway, former Starfleet Lieutenant Commander, former Maquis, former convicted felon, and currently serving as the Starfleet Observer on this three-week mission smirked condescendingly at the green Ensign. "I think someone's pulling your leg, Ensign. Captains don't discipline their senior staff in that manner. Not in Starfleet."

Harry practically bubbled over with excitement as he replied, "Well, this one does. He's made it clear that anyone who gives either of us a hard time will also be assisting the Chief with cleaning out some of the other already spotless Jeffery tubes."

Kathryn scoffed in derision. 'Not likely, Harry. How can you still be so gullible?"

Harry scowled in mock offense. "No joke, Kate", he said earnestly. "The captain told me so, himself."

Kathryn couldn't help herself. The kid was just too much. "I didn't realise you and the captain were such buddies."

Harry hesitated. He looked furtively around before asking the computer to confirm the number of people in the room. "Ensign Harry Kim and Starfleet Observer Kathryn Janeway are currently in the forward lounge," was the computer's response.

"Promise not to tell anyone?" he asked.

"Sure Harry, no problem, who am I going to tell anyway?" she said in a bored voice.

Harry leaned forward confidentially, "The Captain rescued me from being scammed by that Ferengi barkeeper back on DS9. And then he bought me lunch at that Klingon restaurant and gave me some advice on how to handle myself better. He's nothing at all like what I was expecting from the rumour mill at the Academy."

Harry paused as he saw the sceptical look still dominating the red-head's face. He knew that he had seen a side of the Captain not usually shown to others. He continued with his story. "Lots of my friends told me I was crazy taking on this assignment. I mean, he's got a real reputation as a bad ass Captain. But he was really kind towards me, and understanding about the whole experience at Quarks."

Harry paused and then grinned self-consciously, "Well, he did tease me about my naivety. But in a friendly kind of way, you know. Like an older brother would." He saw his new friend coming round to his point of view and finished with the piece de resistance. "And he was serious when he apologized about the behaviour of his senior officers. He told me that razzing of Junior Officers or any other member of his crew would never be tolerated on his ship. Ever. And you know what? I believe him. And so should you."

Kathryn looked at the young Ensign carefully. She had learnt the hard way how to read people accurately. The kid was being earnest. And she had gone with her gut instinct when she accepted Paris' offer in New Zealand. She nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, Harry," she said, "I'll give both of you the benefit of the doubt." As the grin turned into a full-fledged megawatt smile, she hoped silently to herself that she wasn't making another serious mistake.


	5. Abducted

"Damage report!" Tom Paris demanded as he picked himself up from the floor. He silently breathed a sigh of relief as he saw young Harry Kim moving back to his station to answer him. Glancing around, he could see that most of his bridge crew were out cold on the floor, including all three of his helm officers. As he quickly made his way to the Conn, it was with a minimum of regret but a huge dose of irritation that Tom Paris recognised the broken body of his former First Officer. Irrational as it was, he couldn't help but think that the man had gotten himself killed just to make his day more difficult.

Moving on, he silently catalogued the huge litany of damage that was being recited to him. _Bad, it's really bad_ he thought to himself. And then he was at the helm. Peters and Rhixa were dead, but Stadi still had a pulse. _Good. Stadi's too decent a person to die! First things first, though_. The first, most important, unwritten rule for Starship command was 'never leave a ship unpiloted.' It had been a while, but he'd been a fairly decent pilot once. As he placed his hands on the console, he closed his eyes and savoured the moment. Flying had always been his first love. Fleetingly, the old feelings of resentment at being command track rose up. Ruthlessly, he supressed them and focussed on the need of the moment.

"Have we got visual?" he asked Harry urgently. "Yes, sir!" said Harry, putting it up for display. Tom could feel his jaw drop in disbelief. "Where in blazes are we?" he asked.

Harry looked at his controls, hesitated, and then rechecked them. "According to our sensors, sir, we are in the Delta Quadrant, 75,000 light years from Federation space."

Tom stared with narrow eyed concentration at the impressive looking space station floating centre stage in the view screen. "What about that array out there? What have you got on it" he asked out loud.

"Nothing at the moment, sir. I've only got basic sensors. The computer isn't recognizing its design or component makeup. I can't penetrate its shields," replied Harry.

"I'll need you to work on that, Ensign," said Tom, with a deceptively calm voice.

Years of practice leant Tom the strength he needed. Donning his Captain's persona, he quickly assigned his remaining conscious staff their tasks. With the transporters down, and Doctor Fitzgerald not responding, he ordered the most able of the bridge crew outside of Harry to take the other survivors to Sickbay.

'Bridge to Engineering, report!' he called out. He silently repressed the desire to grind his teeth as he heard that his chief Engineer was also dead. "Do your best to lock the core down," he ordered Lieutenant Carey.

Turning back to Harry, he continued "Can you hail the array?"

"No sir." Harry said apologetically. "External communications are still down."

Tom nodded in resignation. "Work on that too, Ensign. What about the other ship out there? What can you give me on that?"

Harry smiled in relief, glad to be finally able to answer a question. "It's the Val Jean, sir. She's in a bad way, but her engines are still intact. Shields are down though. Weapons are offline."

Tom frowned. "If they have engines, but not shields or weapons, why are they still here?"

Harry fiddled with the controls. Looking up with a worried frown, he said, "They're not sir. The Val Jean is showing no life signs, whatsoever."

Tom froze, for a minute. _They're ALL gone? That doesn't make sense. Not from a former commanding officer like Chakotay. I need my engines back now!_

He looked over to his observer, who had automatically gone over to the science station to begin repairs. "Janeway, I believe you know something about Engineering, go help Carey." The red-head nodded. As she left, Tom looked at the only remaining person left on the bridge. He smiled wryly as he caught the young man's attention. "Congratulations Ensign Kim. By default, you are now my new temporary First Officer." And with that, they were both whisked away.


	6. The caretaker

Tom suddenly found himself in the middle of a farm setting straight out of the early twentieth century. Looking around, he saw what he estimated to be about 100 members of his crew also there with him. Seeing Ensign Kim, Janeway and Carey close by, he called them over.

He noticed that both Janeway and Carey had tricorders with them.

"What can you tell me, Lieutenant?" Tom asked Carey.

"Well, to start with, nothing we are seeing here – including the people - is real, but some kind of holographic projection." Lieutenant Carey said in a voice laden with curiosity. Tom nodded as his suspicions were confirmed.

Just then a classic Aunt Mae character came out of the farmhouse.

"Come on up here now," she encouraged in friendly overtones, "I have a pitcher of lemonade and some sugar cookies." She came closer, still talking in a southern hospitality manner, "Oh you poor things, you must be tired out. Come and sit and rest awhile."

As she came near, Tom smiled as he reached out an arm to get her attention.

"Good Afternoon, Ma'am," he said politely. "I'm Captain Tom Paris. I appreciate your kind gesture of hospitality." Tom nodded to Kathryn Janeway and to Ensign Wildman - who had also drawn closer to the group as they interacted. He turned to the hologram and, taking a calculated stab in the dark, asked in his most raffish, charming voice, "Miss Mae … may I call you that?" The alien nodded her head in the affirmative, coyly. "Miss Mae, I would like to introduce you to Miss Kathryn Janeway and Ensign Samantha Wildman. I hope you won't be offended, but sometimes, what's safe for one people group to eat, isn't necessarily safe for another group. I would greatly appreciate your allowing Kathryn and Samantha to scan the food and beverages first before they are passed around."

"Oh my yes. Yes, of course, go right ahead. We don't mean you any harm, and we certainly want you to feel comfortable, here," the hologram responded back enthusiastically.

"Thank you," Tom said graciously, even as he nodded to the two women.

Immediately, Kathryn and Samantha got to work scanning the food and beverages. As the first platters were pronounced safe, Tom beckoned to some of the crewmen standing close by.

"Please assist our hosts and reassure the rest of the crew that these plates are safe to eat from and that there's no need to be inhospitable" As the crewman smiled in relief and went off to perform their task, Tom turned back to the Miss Mae hologram.

Tom smiled again, this time with his practiced charming diplomatic smile. "I love your farmhouse, Miss Mae. It looks exactly like the one out of my favourite holo-novel."

"Oh, isn't that curious?" the hologram asked in a flustered voice.

Tom continued to smile pleasantly. "Oh yes, an amazing co-incidence. Perhaps, our two people groups have other things in common, as well," he suggested softly. "I would love to speak to the owner of this array that your farmhouse is situated on, and maybe participate in a cultural exchange of information on the subject."

"I'm not sure, well …Oh, dear. He's quite busy right now. But perhaps later."

Tom smiled brilliantly at the hologram. "Of course, Miss Mae. Does he have a name I could refer to him by?"

"His name? Well, I don't know. Around here, he's just known as the Caretaker. Perhaps, you could call him that."

"The caretaker. Is that like my title of Captain?" He paused for a nanosecond, but when the hologram didn't respond, continued with an explanation. "As Captain, I am responsible for the protection and safety of all of these people that your caretaker has brought here. Is the caretaker, also responsible for the safety of a people group or a facility of some kind?"

"Well, I …." The Miss Mae hologram looked uncomfortable. In the distance, a group of hillbillies were rapidly moving towards the party. With a smile of relief, the hologram avoided answering the question by exclaiming, "Why look, here are our neighbours come to say hello!" With that, the hologram moved quickly away.

Tom looked grimly at Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Carey. "I'm not sure that I like the way that went. Take a look around and take careful note of anything interesting that comes up. But if the locals object to something, don't push it. I don't want to limit our options. At the same time let's find out a bit more about what we're dealing with, so that we can make some informed decisions."

He paused, and looked over toward the Miss Mae Hologram. "I haven't given up hope for a peaceful outcome, just yet. With a little luck and patience, I'll get the opportunity to talk to this 'caretaker.' So for now, let's keep it friendly. And while the two of you are exploring, I think that I will just … mingle a little." With a satirical smile, Tom headed back towards Miss Mae.

Harry looked over at the Lieutenant. "Harry Kim, Ops." He said, in introduction, not having met the engineer before this moment.

"Joe Carey, Engineering." With a broad grin, Joe flicked a discreet hand gesture to the west. "How about we start in that direction?"

Harry grinned back and shrugged, "Sure, why not."


	7. Harry is missing

As he opened his eyes, Tom stood up and looked around. He was back on the bridge, but alone this time. "Computer," he asked in a harsh voice, "where is Ensign Kim?"

"There is no Ensign Kim listed in the crew manifest. Did you mean Commander Harry Kim?"

"Yes! Where is Commander Kim?" Tom asked furiously, barely restraining the impulse to yell.

"Commander Kim is not on board," returned the impassive voice of the computer. Tom ground his teeth, steadfastly ignoring the inner voice that told him he'd been doing it a lot lately, and that it was bad for his health. "Computer, how many others are missing?"

"All other personnel have been accounted for," the computer responded.

 _Well that's something, at least,_ he thought before quickly checking the chronometer. They had been on the array for four days.

"Paris to sickbay."

"Sir, this is crewman Blix. The doctor and all the medical staff are dead."

"Of course, they are," responded the Captain in frustration. "Have you activated the EMH yet?"

"Uhh, no sir," came the chagrined voice of Blix. "I was trying to work out how to use the medical tricorder myself."

Tom closed his eyes, took a calming breath. "Computer activate the EMH," he said.

Over the open comm. he could hear the standard EMH greeting line: "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Doctor," he said quickly, having already experienced a preview sample of the EMH when he took command and in no mood to deal with the Hologram's inbuilt snarky attitude. "This is the Captain. We have experienced a ship wide emergency. The medical staff are all dead and there will be no replacement staff for the foreseeable future. I need you to see to any injured crew; Work with crewman Blix in the meantime, until a more knowledgeable crew member becomes available to assist you. Check with me before assigning medical duties to someone else. "

"Of course, sir," said the EMH. "I..."

Tom interrupted quickly. "Give me a status report on Lieutenant Stadi as soon as possible. Crewman Blix, I want detailed reports on crew status for each department ready for review and in my ready room within one hour. Paris out."

Tom repressed a growl of frustration. Slapping his leg in anger, he began to pace. Then, catching a glimpse of the still active display screen, he noticed something troubling. Tom quickly moved over to the communications console to confirm what his eyes were seeing. The Val Jean was gone.


	8. Adapting to circumstances

Looking around the empty bridge, Tom came to a decision. Quickly he ran through the list of possibilities in his mind. He hit his combadge. "Kathryn Janeway, Ensigns Delaney, Murphy and Wildman, report to the bridge immediately. Lieutenant Carey, I need the engines back on line as soon as possible. Once that is done, I'd like to see you, too." With a determined nod to himself, he grabbed a tool kit and headed over to the Conn. With everyone else dead, missing, or needed elsewhere, he had a navigation board to fix. Somewhere his new first officer was in trouble. He needed the ship fixed so they could go find him. There was also the slight problem of the once again missing Maquis ship he had been assigned to capture.

Delaney, Murphy, Wildman and Janeway all found themselves riding the turbolift together. Kathryn immediately positioned herself in the safest place possible. Although, she had never been on the receiving end of trouble from any of these particular crewmen, you could never be too careful. Both Delaney and Wildman gave Kathryn a nervous half smile acknowledgement before quickly finding their own piece of wall to stare at. Murphy, on the other hand, scowled and stood as far away as possible. Which, given the limited confines of the turbolift, was actually not that far at all.

The turbolift opened and they all stepped out. And stopped. They couldn't see anyone on the bridge. "Well, where is he, then?" Kathryn asked impatiently. In response, a movement at the Conn Station drew their attention. The captain's prone form quickly slid out and came to a vertical position.

The three fleet crewmen immediately stood at attention before the Captain. Kathryn momentarily held her ground, but under the Captain's hard stare, found herself in line and at attention before she could blink. _The rumours are right. He is scarier than his father_ , she thought in surprise. And then he spoke.

"At ease," Tom said sternly.

"I'll make this quick, because there is still a lot of work to be done. Apart from Ensign Kim - who did not return from the array with us, and Lieutenant Stadi – who is still unconscious in sickbay, my entire Senior Staff is dead. I need replacements. Congratulations, you're it."

Tom suppressed a smirk as he watched shocked pride warring with unmitigated horror fight for pre-eminence on the four faces in front of him. Janeway recovered first. _Good. I was sure my instincts were right on the mark_. He decided to address Kathryn Janeway's position first.

"Kathryn Janeway, in accordance with Section 98 alpha C of the Starfleet Regulations Manual, I am reactivating your Starfleet Commission. Given the circumstances, your commission will be entered into Ship's logs as a permanent active assignment, effective immediately. Protocol does not allow me to offer you a position in the Senior Command Chain, expressly first, second or third officer. Instead, I am offering you the position of Senior Science Officer. You will report directly to the First Officer. Do you accept?" Tom paused to wait for Janeway's answer. As he saw Kathryn hesitate, Tom decided to tighten the screws, slightly. "Of course, if you do not wish to formally re-join Starfleet, I believe that ship's maintenance is also experiencing a shortage of crew members."

Kathryn grimaced but took note of the steely look in the Captain's blue eyes _. He means it. Either I accept the commission or I'm going to spend the next seventy years hauling garbage_. She made the only real answer possible. "I accept," she said, her tone carefully neutral.

"Good. Accordingly, I am reinstating you to the highest rank level possible under the Code of Conduct. Congratulations Lieutenant, Junior Grade. " said Tom. Kathryn stared unseeingly ahead while the Captain continued to address the others _. Lieutenant, JG? I used to be a Commander. This is going to be a long seventy years._

Tom turned his attention to the dark haired ensign from Stellar Cartography. "Ensign Delaney, we have apparently been transported 70,000 lightyears away from Federation space and are currently in the Delta Quadrant, which as you know is unchartered space," he began. "This is a golden opportunity for Voyager, and your department, in particular. And while I am hopeful that we can still broker a deal with the Caretaker to get us home, there are no guarantees."

Tom paused. Without Starfleet Command to run to, he would need solid counsel. That meant a greater level of transparency with his senior staff. He continued on. "Given what we know of the alien from our first encounter, I have my doubts as to how successful our petition will be. As such, your department now has a pivotal role to play. As its department head, I need you on my Senior Staff. I am also short on eligible Command Track Officers. You'll begin training for Command Track as soon as it is viable. But we can discuss those details later."

Jenny Delaney swallowed convulsively. _Me? He wants to train ME for the command_ _t_ _rack. Is he crazy?_ "Sir, I've never really considered myself a career officer. I only joined to make my parents happy. And to meet ….Uh, that is, even my own father doesn't consider me Command Track. Sir." "Nonsense Delaney," Tom returned briskly. "I would never have offered you the head position of Stellar Cartography, if I didn't have full confidence in your abilities." Tom saw the doubting look on the Ensign's face and decided to change tactics.

Jenny felt her face flush as the Captain flashed an irresistibly charming grin her way. _Wow, he's really gorgeous when he smiles like that. Really, really gorgeous. Like an angel._ And then he was speaking again, in a silky voice that was as smooth as honey. "Cartography was my major at the Academy before I took command track," he confided. "So, I know raw talent when I see it. It just needs a little tweaking. We can work on it together, okay?" Tom ruthlessly finished with the now rarely used megawatt smile that he knew most women found irresistible. "Oh, okay. If you really think so." Jenny said dazedly. The captain nodded confidently back. "I'm sure you'll do great, Lieutenant Delaney." he said. As the captain's gaze moved on to Samantha Wildman, Jenny found herself wondering what had happened. _Did I really just agree to change to command track? What have I done?_

"Ensign Wildman," Tom said softly, "I know that while your major is exobiology, you minored in exo-linguistics, as well. I am making you head Communications Officer."

Samantha stared at him in disbelief. "But what about Harry?" she uttered in shock. Tom nodded his head in recognition of the very valid statement. "Before, we were taken by the array, I had promoted Harry Kim to First Officer. It made sense, since he was the only Command Level Bridge Officer left standing." He looked away to the view screen for a moment to gather his thoughts _. The caretaker said that he'd only brought the 'live specimens' from my crew aboard his array. That means that I've lost a lot of people. Too many. And that means, I can't afford to lose any more._

He looked back at Samantha. "I have full expectations that we can retrieve Mr Kim back alive and well. Of course, we need to find him, first. That's your first job."

He paused to make eye contact with the entire group. "Mr Kim had just discovered the Maquis vessel empty and listing in space, when we suddenly found ourselves guests on the array. I think that it is safe to say that its missing crew were also temporary guests of the caretaker." He paused and grinned humourlessly. "The vessel seems to have disappeared in our absence. I need to know where it's disappeared to." Refocussing his attention on Samantha Wildman, he said, "That's your second job." She nodded back obediently.

Tom paced restlessly, carefully appraising all four of them before coming back to a standstill in front of Samantha Wildman. "I know that, while you don't have any more aspirations to command than Lieutenant Delaney, you have already completed the required post graduate certification process. You actually came third in your class. We're going to need your skills both on the bridge, and at Senior Staff level. Until we get Harry Kim back, you will double as Acting first officer and communications officer. In recognition of that fact, I am hereby promoting you to the rank of lieutenant commander."

Tom moved to stand in front of Ensign Murphy. "I was expecting to meet up with my chief security officer during our three week mission," he began. "As things currently stand, I have entered the officer into the ship's records as Missing in Action." Tom hesitated, wondering how much information to share during this debriefing. _Not too much, this time._ "I am offering you the position of Acting Chief Security Officer in his absence. Do you accept?"

Donald Murphy considered his captain's words. He'd wondered why they had left dry-dock without a chief security officer. Now he knew. _A hundred credits says the security chief is on the missing Maquis ship. Probably placed there as a spy, based on the Captain's inference. Fair enough. With any luck, he_ _'_ _ll stay missing. There's no point in putting the captain's back up in the meantime, though,_ he thought to himself. "I accept," he said expressionlessly. Tom concluded his talk with the security officer briskly. "The position comes with field promotion to lieutenant JG, as well. Congratulations. Like Lt Delaney, you'll begin Command Track training as soon as it is feasible."

Tom took a step back. His uncompromising stare took in all four officers. "There's a lot of work to do. I need all of you on top of your game. You're senior officers now. The rest of the crew will be depending on you for encouragement and direction. I am confident in all of your abilities to provide it." Once again, Tom paused to allow his words to take root.

"Mr Murphy, I need you begin working with your team to tighten up our security measures and to find a way to improve our shield and weapons capability. This is a priority. First, talk to crewman Blix, currently helping out in sickbay. I've asked him for staffing status reports. Get the security list from him, and double check it."

Tom looked to his new science officer. "Right now, repairs are a priority over exploration. Please continue your efforts in Engineering. In fact, I'd like you to relieve Mr Carey, so that I can speak to him. I'll make sure that Engineering knows you're on your way." Kathryn nodded gratefully. She understood what the Captain wasn't saying _. Harry was right. He is looking out for us. Maybe, I might survive the trip after all._

"Lt Delaney, I want Stellar Cartography up and running in forty minutes. Specifically, I want to know **exactly** where we are, and what the surrounding stellar landscape around us looks like. For that matter, we have no guarantee that Mr Kim is still on the array. He could also have been moved to another location, since the caretaker seems mighty fond of, and efficient in, the movement of people and objects. I want a basic map in my ready room in an hour," Jenny gulped, but nodded obediently. Her brother had died as a prisoner of war - an hour before help arrived. If getting a stellar map of the local area would make a difference, she was on it. She would not be the one responsible for a rescue that came too late. "Yes, sir," she replied, determination adding steel to her voice.

"And a detailed one within 12 hours," the Captain continued. "Hopefully, we will have retrieved Mr Kim, by then, and we can go home. We wouldn't want to face Starfleet HQ, completely empty handed after an opportunity like this, would we?" His grin was wickedly ferocious, and the recently promoted Lieutenant quaked in her shoes, even as she hesitantly agreed _. No, we wouldn't,_ Jenny thought to herself. _Especially, if the Admiralty is as demanding and intimidating as you are._

As the Captain's attention moved on towards his next target, Jenny Delaney gulped down a much needed breath of air and forced her limbs to be still. _Angel, huh,_ she mocked her earlier thoughts. _More like Dark Angel!_ She shuddered as she recalled all the gossip and rumours she'd ever heard about her captain. She really, really hoped that it was all exaggerated, even though she now had serious doubts that it was.

Finally, Tom looked at Samantha, once more. "Commander Wildman, I need you on the bridge with me." He smiled grimly at his new senior officers. "Alright people, let's do this. I want Voyager ready to ship out and find Mr Kim within the next two hours, maximum."

"AYE, Sir!" the four responded as one, before departing quickly to do their respective jobs.


	9. First Contact with Neelix

An hour later, Samantha Wildman spoke up from her new station. "Sir, another ship has entered the debris field. It's small, with one occupant. Decent shields and weapons for its size. But no match for Voyager."

"Senior officers to the bridge," Tom said. "Hail the ship, Lieutenant Wildman,"

Two minutes later, Tom was aiming his most charming and winning smile at the alien in the view screen. He knew a smooth operator when he saw one. "Of course, Mr Neelix," he said in a soft silky voice. "However, surely there must be something of value that we could offer in exchange for your most valuable time and assistance." Tom carefully worked to keep a pleasant expression on his face as he watched the alien's over-the-top performance. His instincts were working overtime. He could feel it. He just had to play his cards right and any minute now, the home ground advantage would be his.

Finally, the alien named his price. _Water. His price is water!_ Tom's eyes narrowed as he mentally connected some dots. The fifth planet where the caretaker was sending his energy pulses was an M class planet lacking any surface areas containing water. His sixth sense was screaming at him, fairly begging him to pick up on the link.

Tom carefully maintained his friendly diplomat's face as he considered the ramifications of the request. "I think that we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement," he declared with a neutral voice that was tempered with just the right amount of interest. He had also taken careful note of the patchwork nature of the alien's ship. No doubt, a little extra honey was in order. "Perhaps, you would consider coming over to our ship to discuss it. We have quite a large landing bay and a very talented Engineering crew. We would be happy to assist you with some free general maintenance repairs as a token of our good will."

The little alien paused. "Free maintenance, did you say? Why that is most generous of you. Most generous. I guess I could spare a little time to help you folk out." He smiled in what was obviously an attempt to be ingratiating. Tom smiled back, and discreetly nodded to Lieutenant Wildman to open the cargo bay doors to the little ship. With a last friendly rejoinder, he ordered the comm. link to be closed.

Seeing the puzzlement in the new bridge crew's face, he decided to enlighten them as to his reasoning. "We are alone, in an unknown part of space. We have already lost too many of our crew. We don't know any of the species that live here, or their capabilities." Tom directed his next comment to Murphy. "If the rest of them are like the alien on the array that brought us here, we need all the advantages we can get. Until we have a greater understanding of our circumstances, I would rather underplay our real capabilities. So no transporters."

Tom grinned wolfishly, "To appropriate an old gambler's saying, I want us to play our cards close to our chest."

Taking on a serious mien once more, he added, "Murphy. While our guest is here, I don't want him accessing or near any more of our technology than can be helped. Let's give him the most basic quarters available, and make sure the replicators in the room are fully disabled. Oh, and one more thing. I want at least one security guard assigned to our guest as well."

Once more encompassing the entire team with his gaze, he added. "Until we know who and what we're up against, let's not risk doing anything that might upset the balance of power in this region." His new senior staff nodded. Every Starfleet crewmember knew the regulations on this subject, all too well.

"Wildman, you have the bridge. Murphy, you're with me."

With that, Tom strode quickly to the turbo lift, eager to meet their new acquaintance. The short but solid alien was exiting his vessel as Tom entered the cargo bay. "Welcome to Voyager, Mr Neelix!" he announced loudly. The brightly dressed stranger had been glancing with eager fascination around the room. However, at Tom's greeting, he immediately rushed over and hugged Tom. Well versed in Starfleet Protocol, Tom hugged him back, charming smile firmly in place. He'd immediately noticed the greedy look in Neelix's eyes as he looked around. _A longer conversation over some light refreshments is definitely in order. But first a bath. The little alien smells like he's been raised in a garbage tip. … No better make that a sonic shower. If the chap is that desperate for water, there's a good reason for it._ He narrowed his eyes. With a new senior staff that was a little too green for his liking, Tom decided to do the honours himself. With a light laugh and a rusty repertoire of bantering small talk that had his new security officer nearly in shock, Tom led the way to the guest quarters.


	10. Players

Neelix paced with agitation around the spacious room. He had been 'assigned it' seven hours previously. And even though it was larger, cleaner and better fitted out than his ship, he could not help but feel that he had made a huge tactical error. Too late, he had recognised the 'Captain' of this impressive vessel for a fellow player. Unfortunately, it was after he had spilled his guts to the man.

He had to give this 'Captain Paris' his due. He was an impressive negotiator. Or was that an impressive interrogator? He wasn't really sure, even now. The man had charmed him with his light chatter. It had contained just enough hooks, that Neelix had been fooled into believing that he was the one doing the playing. He had been wrong. He, the master Talaxian con artist, had been well and truly played.

And now, all he could do was wait. And hope that he hadn't totally misread the tall alien. After all, both his life, and that of his beloved, depended on it.

Neelix wrung his hands nervously together. "Oh, dear!" he said to himself. "I do hope that Kes will be okay. Who knows what those Kazon bullies have done to her, since I was last able to see her. Now, if only that Captain Paris was being truthful about helping me to rescue her."

Of course, Neelix was an optimist. So, he couldn't help but look for the proverbial silver lining. On the bright side, he had been fed three times. True, the food was tasteless, and bland. But, it obviously wasn't deliberate. When he had commented on its plain taste, someone had brought some extra seasoning. Well, it wasn't what he was used to. But, to give them their due, they had tried. And each time, the meal had been accompanied by a large pitcher of water. Not just a sip, or even a single glass. A whole pitcher – five cups worth each time. He'd certainly been in worse prisons before. Surely, a ship that could afford such generosity to a 'guest' as he found himself now, could easily find the water to offer Maj Jabin. So, everything would be fine. Yes. It was all going to be fine.


	11. First Contact with the Kazon

"So, we have a deal then?" Tom asked the ugly Kazon leader. The Maj smiled a most unattractive grin and gave a half bow in a show of mock respect. But even as the words "of course," were coming from the Kazon's mouth, he was pulling out his weapon. Tom was faster. His team quick to follow suit. A minute later, the Maj and his five bodyguards were lying unmoving on the ground, and one of the Kazon's four shade structures had been utterly destroyed.

The Maj's second hurriedly opted to learn from his former leader's mistake. The aliens had water – and apparently access to more of it. They also had superior weapons, and knew how to use them. Varoul narrowed his eyes. He'd noticed the Uniforms slight, but revealing, nervous posture around their leader. Evidently, he was a man who was just as hard and powerful as a Maj. Maybe, even more so. Probably somewhat ruthless, as well. But that was okay. Kazon leaders were always ruthless, too. And the fact that this man, who called himself 'Captain Paris', was apparently resource rich as well as powerful was too important a point to ignore. It made him a man worth cultivating as an ally.

Varoul stood tall as he agreed to the terms for a new 'peaceful' trade agreement. If he was to maintain his new position as Maj when the Uniforms left, he had to be able to show that he could lead. The Uniform's leader was now offering only half of the water that he had originally offered. Varoul, glanced once more at the still body of Maj Cullah, and again at the alien's hand, hovering ever so closely to his weapon. He would have to tread carefully. His life obviously depended on it.

Five minutes after the Uniforms had delivered the water and left, Varoul stood considering the prone bodies of the fallen Kazon. The Uniforms, apparently being from a 'peaceful' society, had reassured him that they all had been merely 'stunned.' All that is, except for Fliscuk.

Varoul's lip curled in disdain as he eyed the bloody form of his lifelong nemesis. Fliscuk had decided to mount a leadership challenge during the negotiations. Several of the other Kazon had decided to support it. Fliscuk's allies had made a frontal attack, which had successfully distracted the attention of the Uniforms. During the exchange of weapon's fire, Paris had been injured and dropped his weapon. Meanwhile, Fliscuk, who was one of the strongest, largest but ironically stealthiest of their sect to have been born in 70 cycles, had tried to sneak up on Paris from behind. He had been unsuccessful. Before he got in range, Paris had heard him. A mere second later, a knife was buried deep through Fliscuk's heart. By that time, the rest of the attackers had been defeated.

At that moment, Varoul had known for sure. Paris **was** a dangerous enemy. But an equally potentially powerful ally. For the good of his tribe, he would find a way to forge a true alliance with this man and his 'Federation tribe.' And he would allow nothing, and no one, to stop him; especially not his former Maj and the Maj's followers.

His decision made, Varoul picked up one of his own fully charged weapons. Maj Cullah stirred briefly, but by then, it was too late.


	12. Finding Harry

"Commander Kim, surely you're not giving up so soon?" Tom called out teasingly, as he sighted the young man sitting despondently on the Ocampa hospital bed. Startled out of his thoughts, the young Asian had barely enough time to process the realisation that his Captain was part of the rescue away team, before he was clapped firmly on the shoulder and then enveloped in a bear hug. The hug lasted barely a nano second before the Captain was stepping back and returning to command mode. Harry only knew that it wasn't a hallucination because of the shocked looks on the faces of the three other away team members. The Captain's blue eyes were filled with laughter as looked at Harry. "Good thing you're okay, commander. You're mother commed me just before we left spacedock. I don't think my life would have been worth living if we returned home without you. Assuming, of course, that your father didn't kill me first, your mother would have made my life a living hell."

But any concern for the Captain's sanity was forgotten as, almost immediately, Tom's audible cry of surprise filled the room. The two security officers reacted with professional quickness, their phasers out and ready to meet the danger. Finding none, they looked in confusion at their normally unflappable leader.

Tom gazed mutely at the three other 'guests' in the Ocampa Hospital room. He recognised the two sleeping women as the rebel B'Elanna Torres and his first love Sh'Endira. The third, a young teenager who had been startled awake by his muted shout, he'd never seen before.

It didn't matter.

Staring at the golden blonde hair and the deep cornflower blue eyes of the pale blue skinned Trill, he knew who it was immediately. With effort, he clamped down on the overwhelming sense of rage and hurt that washed over him. Now wasn't the time. He firmly took control over his thoughts and emotions before looking dispassionately at the three women, and then at Harry. Huge welts covered every visible part of their bodies. Both Sh'Endira and Torres were still unconscious. Tom's concern for their physical well-being stepped up a notch. "How are the two of you feeling?" he quickly asked Harry and the young teen.

"I'm okay, Sir." Harry said bravely, nervously looking over to the teen. The young girl, who had been silently staring in wonder at the Captain, nodded slightly as well. "Yes, I too, am fine. Very itchy. Very tired. Very nauseous. But B'Elanna and my mother aren't doing as well as Harry and I."

Tom nodded back in recognition of the response. Turning to the Ocampan nursing staff who had brought them here, he smiled gratefully to them. As two more of the Ocampan medical team entered the room, Tom widened his smile to include them also. Five minutes later, Tom had charmed them into complete agreement with his proposal. He immediately commed Samantha Wildman on the Bridge.

"Commander Wildman," he said, "Please lock onto all non Ocampan lifesigns except for mine and Lieutenant Murphy, and beam them directly to sickbay. Kes, Murphy and I will be continuing on here for a bit longer. I would also appreciate Lieutenant Janeway's assistance down here. Stand ready for beam-out on my signal."

Two hours later, Tom had successfully negotiated with Kes' friend Degan to acquire samples of all the Ocampan herbs and vegetables _. Delta quadrant plant specimens will certainly impress the Admiralty when we get back._ With a smile, he once more called for a beam-up, this time sending Murphy and Janeway ahead with the samples. The next instant a strong tremor rocked the underground city. Until now the tremors had been almost indiscernible. The strength of this one immediately concerned him. "What was that?" he asked sharply. The Ocampans around him smiled gently. "Nothing to be concerned about," said their Elder.

Tom frowned, even as his combadge sounded. It was Wildman. "Sir," she said, "We have got sensors working properly again. The array has changed position. The energy pulses to the Ocampan city are increasing in frequency and intensity. It looks like he's …." The com signal was interrupted by an even bigger tremor.

"We need to get out of here." Tom said urgently. Turning to the Ocampan Elder, he offered impulsively, "If you gather your people together quickly, we have the means to transport all of you to a safer place."

The elder, and the other Ocampans around him smiled condescendingly at him and shook their heads. "There is no need. The Caretaker is merely taking care of our needs. We can trust in him to look after us, always."

Kes immediately disagreed with the Elder's pronunciation. But the other Ocampan were immovable in their trust, even those who were cultivating the gardens. Another blast rocked the city. Tom's commbadge beeped. "Sir," said Wildman, "we have to get you out of there, now." "I need another minute," Tom said, looking at Kes.

Glancing at the elder, Kes explained. "My mate Neelix is on Captain Paris' ship. I need to see him."

The elder looked disapprovingly at Kes. "Mating with an outsider? That is not our way. No good can come of it. Forget him, and stay with us. The Caretaker will look after you."

"No," responded Kes. "Neelix is my mate. My place is with him." To Tom, she said, "Please, take me back with you."

"Very well," said the Elder, "but you will no longer have a place here among us." Kes nodded sadly, but stood resolute next to Tom.

"Two to beam up." Tom said, and they disappeared in a sprinkle of blue light. A second later, a rapid series of energy beams spread rapidly across the Ocampan landscape.

As Tom and Kes entered the bridge, Lieutenant Murphy looked at them grimly. "You only just made it, sir. The Ocampan underground city has been completely sealed in. Not even a com signal can get through now."

Tom put a reassuring hand on Kes' shoulder as she held back a sob. "Kes, we tried. But they made their choice. We have to respect it." "Lieutenant Carey," he called down to Engineering. "How's the warp core looking?"

"We're getting there, sir. I can give you Warp one for maybe three hours for the time being. But if you can stick to impulse for just an hour longer, I think I can get them working properly again, sir."

"Fine work, Lieutenant." Tom said calmly. "I'll expect to hear an updated report in an hour."

He looked toward Baytart, filling in for Stadi at the helm. "Head us back to the array, Full impulse, Ensign," he said. "Let's see if we can persuade 'the Caretaker' to send us back home, the way we came." He sat down in his chair. "Engage."


	13. Shockwave

"Sir, I'm reading forty Kazon ships surrounding the Caretaker Array. They're firing on it."

"All stop," Tom said. "Lieutenant Murphy, what is our weapons and shield status?"

"Shields still only at eighty percent, Sir. But weapons are fully online."

Tom took a breath, and considered his options. "Hail the array." He ordered Wildman at Ops.

"No answer, sir." She replied.

"Sir," said Murphy, "I'm picking up the Marquis Raider, the Val Jean. " It's in trouble, sir. The engine has started to overload. I give it five minutes, max, unless they can contain it. But that's unlikely, sir."

"Get us into transporter range, Ensign Baytart."

Tom nodded to Wildman, speaking urgently and sharply, "Transporter rooms 1 and 2, get ready for multiple transports. Get as many of them as you can. Lieutenant Wildman is sending you the coordinates. Transport them directly to Cargo bay two." On my mark …, Now. Murphy I need you here, but get a security detail down to Cargo bay two immediately."

"On it, Sir."

Two minutes later, the bridge crew watched as the Maquis raider blew up, taking several of the surrounding Kazon ships with it.

"Sir!" said Murphy. "I'm reading an energy surge coming from the Array. It's also going to explode in two minutes."

"Shields up. Helm, get us out of here, maximum impulse, then warp as soon as possible." Tom ordered.

"All hands, brace for impact," called out Tom.

As the first of the shockwaves hit the ship, Murphy from Tactical yelled, "Shields holding."

The pilot was thrown out of his seat as the ship was buffeted and Tom raced quickly over to the Helm. Knowing that it was too late to go to warp, even before he was sitting, Tom turned the ship another three degrees in order to enable it to ride the shockwaves like a surf board, and cut the engines.

Busily focused on escaping the shockwaves, the bridge crew took no notice of the single Kazon ship that had come up and placed itself safely in Voyager's wake to ride out the shockwave also.

Forty-five minutes later, Voyager finally came to a stop.

Tom looked up to yet another unfamiliar display of stars. "Where are we now, Lieutenant Commander?" he asked grimly.


	14. Sickbay

The sickbay was crowded with patients when Captain Paris walked in. The EMH looked up in frustration, expecting another ungrateful patient. Seeing the captain, however, he quickly pulled a respectful mask on his face. "Report, Doctor." Captain Paris said, ignoring the half Klingon who looked ready to pounce on him, but was being held back by Harry.

The EMH nodded over to B'Elanna, Sh'Endira, Harry and the young girl. "As you can see, I have done a brilliant job of…"

"Without the fanfare Doctor. I'm really quite busy. Are they well enough to be put to work?"

"Well, yes." said the Doctor disconcertedly.

"Excellent." returned Tom. "Mr Kim, I need you on the bridge. Wildman's doing her best, but I need you up there. Murphy and Wildman will fill you in."

"Aye, sir," said Harry, letting go of the half Klingon before walking out the room.

The half Klingon growled menacingly, but Tom just laughed in her face. "Give it a rest Torres, leave the theatrics till later. Right now, the rest of your crew are in Cargo Bay One. We managed to rescue all of them before their ship and the Array both blew up. There's probably injured down there, however, so I'm going to need you and Sh'Endira to help me to take care of that. For some reason, I don't think that the Doc here's gonna make it that far in his rounds."

The half Klingon just snarled even harder. "PetaQ! How do you know my name?" she asked aggressively. Tom just smirked at her, before turning back to the EMH. In a rage, B'Elanna flew towards him. As she did so, he merely reached out, and locked her muscles frozen with a single touch. Inwardly, he thanked his childhood mentor for his exacting training in how to immobilize an enemy by using their own pressure points against them. Outwardly, he remained impassive. He continued to ignore Torres, talking to the Doctor, instead. "How's Stadi doing?"

While every other person in the room stood frozen, shocked by the ease in which the captain had nullified the Klingon's attack, the EMH remained focused on the question. His response was typically impartial and blunt. "I've had to put her in stasis for the time being. Her injuries are too complicated to deal with, when so much else is going on."

"Fine," said Tom. With one hand continuing to hold B'Elanna immobile, Tom turned to the Ocampa. "Kes, I know you really want to see Mr Neelix, but you said you know a little bit about natural healing treatments. I would appreciate any help you can give the Doctor here. In the meantime, I will have Neelix brought down to sickbay to see you."

Kes looked at the man who had rescued her from the Kazon. Even though the tone and words were hard - harsh even, she sensed an innate goodness and gentleness in him. Right now, it was the merest flicker peeking through a formidable mental wall of stone. But it was the man's core. And it was to that core of light within Captain Paris that she responded. "I would be happy to help in any way I can," she said. Then she smiled a radiant smile at him.

Without conscious volition, Tom relaxed in response to the smile, automatically releasing B'Elanna from the body lock she'd been frozen in. Then, Tom did something that he hadn't done in almost thirteen years. He smiled – a full bodied genuine smile that lit his entire face, and took at least ten years off of his visual age. In that moment every person in the room, patient and non-patient alike, saw the same thing. A beautiful angelic being radiating with light.

For most of the crew there, who had been serving with the Captain the longest, it was a defining moment. The near identical looks of shock and disbelief testimony to the anomalous event. For B'Elanna, the sight was electric. As a frisson of attraction for the Starfleet Officer made its way through her body, she ruthlessly suppressed it; along with the irrational and undesirable flash of jealousy towards the young Ocampa woman that accompanied it.

Body and soul still relaxing in response to Kes' smile, Tom now glanced at the young teen. "Hello," he said to her, warm smile still evident.

She looked hesitatingly at him. "Hello," she said shyly. "My name is Sh'Ayrin. You're my father, aren't you?" Tom hesitated, his face hardening once more into familiar lines as he aimed his next words at the now conscious woman. "Well, Sh'Endira?" he asked. "Am I?"


	15. Problems

It had been a full day since they had finally come to a stop after being propelled another thirty five thousand light years on the shockwave. Fortunately, it had been in the right direction, so they were already almost half way home. With luck, most of them would still be alive, when they made it back. So far, so good. They had now taken refuge in orbit around an uninhabited planet. And there were apparently no other sentient life signs around. Wildman, Kes, Janeway and Murphy were on the planet now, making a preliminary survey of its plant life. The ship needed to increase its food reserves fast.

 _Peace, at last_. Even if it couldn't last long. He laid back on his ready room couch, determined to make the most of the next half hour break while Harry Kim manned the bridge.

If only his brain would comply, instead of dwelling on the most pressing of issues: The new personnel problems.

First, there was Maj Varoul and his now displaced followers. And their wives. And their children. Forty-five people in all.

Varoul had, apparently, been secretly trying to aid the Val Jean during the Kazon attack on the array; having been assured that its occupants were members of his new allies, the Federation.

 _Allies, he'd called them. Not trading partners. Allies. And what a can of worms that was going to be, when they all got home. Admiral Jellico would not be impressed with the outcome of that particular first contact._ He sighed.

On the bright side, the Kazon were still on their own ship. Having found himself stuck between the proverbial rock and the hard place, Tom had taken the most practical course possible in the circumstances. He had just spent two hours explaining the basics of the Federation and its values to the new Maj and his officers. Then, he had given Varoul an ultimatum. Varoul was still deciding whether to agree to it or not.

He, Tom, was now also personally responsible for two aliens, who, thanks solely to him, were now 35 years away from their home. He had a teenaged daughter that he hadn't known existed a week ago; and forty so-called 'criminals' to haul home.

Unfortunately, none of those things were the really pressing issues right now, in the scheme of things.

That said, the biggest problem wasn't the rebel's captain Chakotay, either. The man had been quite reasonable so far.

Nor was it his Chief Security Officer, although Tuvok was right up there close to the top. Tom growled in frustration. _Amnesia as a result of a serious head injury._ _Thinks he's a blasted real life maquis member, for crying out loud._ _Does the entire universe hate me? My entire original senior staff_ _apart from Harry down and out for the foreseeable future. Does Harry even count? He's so green, I'm surprised his skin isn't that colour_.

Tom stood up and paced the room in agitation. His next problem – Maquis again, still didn't top the list, although it needed some serious thought. Mike Ayala, Chakotay's first officer. The one person who knew Tom for what he really was - a former Section 20 Starfleet Intelligence Operative – and a covert supporter of the Maquis cause.

Mike Ayala had 'recruited' Tom and was the only person who knew that for the last year and half, Tom had been supplying the Maquis with key information. He had also been using his 'missions' to provide cover for other ships that supplied medicines and food to the rebel bases _. The last thing I need right now is for my crew to find out I'm actually a covert member of the enemy. That will really go down well._

But the real problem was the Obsidian Order Agent currently masquerading as a Bajoran Maquis member. _And doing a good job of it, obviously_. Fortunately, Tom's family background, and his work with Section 20, meant that he had been trusted with the Intelligence about the Cardassian Infiltration Scheme. Unfortunately, Star Fleet had a peace treaty in place with the snakes. Legally speaking, his hands were tied. But having said that, there was no way he was having that woman spreading her poison around his ship.

Tom's eyes narrowed as he remembered the interplay he'd seen happening between the Maquis Captain and the Cardassian infiltrator. He sighed. Problem didn't even begin to cover it.


	16. Another challenging First Contact

Down on the planet surface, the away team looked in delight at the abundance of food that they had found. There was so much of it. And the topsoil was so fertile. It was unbelievable that no-one had claimed the planet, already.

"Kim to Wildman," came the sudden interruption. "Prepare for emergency beam out."

"Acknowledged," she replied.

The four quickly left their areas and came to stand together. "Ready for transport," Samantha said as she touched her badge. The air crackled with static interference, but nothing happened.

Then Murphy spoke out, sharply "Over there, to the right. Trouble." Samantha saw two large bipeds armed with swordlike weapons headed their way. The reptile-like animals looked angry and aggressive and they were brandishing their swords confrontationally.

Samantha grimaced. As the current 2nd Officer, the next move was hers. She knew what the correct Starfleet response should be. She just didn't want to take it. Because she knew, just looking at the ugly creatures headed her way that it would get her away team all killed. Unfortunately, despite appearances, she wasn't really a good Starfleet Officer. She and her Ktarian husband were closet Maquis. Quietly and subtly using their respected Starfleet positions to aid their cause.

Impulsively, she made her decision. She hoped that Captain Paris had meant what he'd said, earlier that day. But, if not, the consequences could take care of themselves. "Defensive posture!" she called out to her team. Murphy and Janeway immediately went into the correct posture, their hands hovering confidently over their phasers. Murphy bit back a grin, pleased that the quiet unassuming blonde who had been promoted over him wasn't afraid to think outside the box and make a gut inspired judgement call.

Janeway smiled grimly as she moved protectively in front of Kes, the young Ocampan. She had come to the same conclusions regarding the approaching hostile aliens as her new friend Samantha obviously had. While she waited for the next, probably inevitable command, she smiled in appreciation of her new Captain's 'DQ amendment to away team protocol.'

"We're going to need to be adaptive," he'd said. "We are already working with less than minimum crew. We can't afford to lose anyone else, through careless stupidity or impractical idealism."

He'd looked at each of them with steely determination. "We are still Starfleet. We will still adhere wherever possible to Starfleet ideals. But we are not within the relatively peaceful borders of the Federation and we are alone. We need to consider the experiences of Starfleet's early years of Space Exploration, and look at people like Captain Kirk as our example."

He'd paused for a moment and then stated, firmly. "Effective immediately, all away teams will be equipped with phasers, as a precautionary measure. Based on our Delta Quadrant experiences so far; and on intelligence gleaned from Mr Neelix, first contact will be conducted on yellow alert status, at all times, from now on.

Back in the present, Samantha held up her hands in a placatory gesture _. Always aim for a peaceful solution, first._

The alien's response was immediate; their leader hurling an object their way.

While Samantha ducked, the others all pulled out their phasers. Murphy took aim and fired. Nothing. Like the transporters, they were suddenly not working. Jumping hurriedly out of the way of the hurling object, Samantha was thinking through the options. _We need a new plan urgently._

"Those large rocks on the slope will provide us with cover," cried Samantha.

Ten minutes later, they were safely hiding behind the boulders. "Now what do we do?" asked Kes.

Kathryn had been subconsciously categorizing the area as they ran. As she looked at the unusual mineral density in the rocks, she got an idea. "How about this …?"

Forty five minutes after the previous hail, the away team heard the most beautiful words ever, "prepare for beam out." Quickly, they threw the last of their small exploding rocks at the aliens. They had been enough to keep the enemy at bay. As the air shimmered around Voyager's crew, one of creatures threw its sword at the landing party in desperation. It struck Murphy a moment before the beam took effect.

The away party materialised onto the transporter platform. The crewman manning the station, gave a muted shout of shocked surprise. It was followed by the sound of a dull thud. With horror, the three women looked down to see Murphy's decapitated head land in a separate heap to his body. The sword, red with his blood, clattered to the floor beside it.

In the silence, the Captain's voice could be clearly heard. "Bridge to transporter room. Did you get them?"

Crewman Lang, only four months out of the academy, newly promoted to the position of transporter operator and standing frozen in shock, didn't answer. "Bridge to transporter room. Status report." This time the captain's voice was harsher and more insistent. It roused Samantha Wildman, the away team leader, out of her stupor. "Bridge, this is Lieutenant Commander Wildman. Lieutenant Murphy is dead. The rest of us are fine."

On the bridge, Tom Paris closed his eyes and took a calming breath. "Bridge to Sickbay…"

This time, it was Janeway, still in the transporter room that responded. "It's too late for that. Lieutenant Murphy has been decapitated."

Tom received the news with a numb feeling of disbelief. "I see," he said without expression. "Commander Wildman, please have the body removed to the morgue. Where is the transporter operator?"

Samantha looked over to the poor crewman who was now shaking uncontrollably. "He's here, sir. But he'll need to be replaced and taken to sickbay for shock."

"Very well, Commander," Tom said, still in an expressionless voice. "Take care of Lang. And I want the three of you checked over, as well. Staff meeting in an hour, providing the doctor gives the three of you the all clear. Paris out." Tom looked to his First Officer, "You have the bridge, Commander Kim. I'll be in my ready room."

Around the bridge, the crew quietly got on with the new round of repairs. Although unvoiced, their anger was palatable. The alien pirates who had come out of nowhere and attacked them had put up a good fight. Several of the crew, who just fifteen minutes ago, thought that the Captain had gone too far when he'd ordered tactical to destroy the alien vessel, suddenly found themselves wishing that they'd been the one to fire the killing shot.

At tactical, the ensign who was next in line for promotion, was wishing something else entirely. _Please,_ he thought _, don't ask me to be the new security chief. Not a Senior Position. Not here. Not now. I don't want to be an officer. I just want to go home to my family. Alive._


	17. Talking with Chakotay

"Captain Chakotay, please have a seat." Captain Paris' voice was charm itself. Chakotay felt his eyes narrow. He might never have met the man before coming to the Delta Quadrant, but he was well aware of his reputation. Having taught Advanced Tactical Strategies at the Academy, he had made a point of following the man's career. After all, family name only took a person so far, even in Starfleet. Paris' rise through the ranks was pure poetry in motion – at least from a tactical and strategic viewpoint.

Chakotay took his seat, deliberately displaying a show of quiet confidence as he did so. He thought he had a pretty good handle on the guy's MO. Unlike most other men, Paris became quiet when angry. And when he brought out the charm. That was when he was the most dangerous _. He's going to try to throw me with a curveball_. _Losing my temper and reacting out of anger will get me nowhere with this man. I need to stay calm, and not let him bait me._

Tom took a moment to get drinks from the replicator. "I believe you prefer tea to coffee" he said, placing the steaming, hot mug in front of his guest. Chakotay looked down at the mug before responding. "You're well informed." Deliberately, he refused to pick up the cup.

Tom's mouth twitched, as he noticed the rebel captain's reticence. "Go ahead, it's not poisoned." Chakotay looked at the cup, doubtfully. It didn't look like an ordinary cup of tea to him. Actually, it didn't look like tea, at all.

Paris continued. "And, since we're going to have to start rationing the replicators soon, it will probably be one of the last free offers you get. Besides," he added grimly, "you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you, so you're going to need it … Otherwise, I really would have served you tea instead of coffee. For that matter, I'd have offered you alcohol, but you don't drink it and I don't serve it while on duty."

Chakotay smiled cynically in return. "Sounds ominous."

Tom took a moment to size up the man in front of him. Everything that he knew about Chakotay told him that he was making the right move. But it was hard to be sure. Being in love made a man do strange things. "Seska is a Cardassian spy, made over to look Bajoran," he said starkly into the waiting silence.

Chakotay froze, his mind refusing to acknowledge the audacious statement. Without thought, he reached down for his cup. A moment later, and back in control of his emotions he responded. "That's a serious claim. Care to prove it?"

Tom grimaced. "Listen, I don't like this any more than you do. Believe me. But **you** tell **me** , during your time with Starfleet doing Advanced Tactics, did you ever hear of KISS. That's what our people called it. Also known as the Cardassian Infiltration Scheme?"

Chakotay sucked in his breath as the Star Fleet Captain asked the insidious question. _It's a lie._ He told himself, firmly. _He's just trying to rattle my cage._ Except, he had heard of KISS. It was the day he'd found out about the destruction of his home world and his father's death. But he'd never been briefed. Because, he'd resigned in a fit of anger instead, and walked off, never giving the subject another thought since. _NO! I won't believe it!_ But even as his heart rebelled, his mind knew. All the perfectly orchestrated maquis missions that had gone wrong, the random incidences that didn't make sense. The whole mess with Kate. _Oh Spirits_ , he thought, his eyes opening wide in horror. _It can't be true. It can't be._ But it was too late. There was no choice. For the sake of his crew, he had to know.

Looking back at the silently, waiting man, he said dully, "Alright, tell me what you know."


	18. Revelations and Choices

Chakotay and Mike Ayala stalked with panther-like grace along the corridor to the cargo bay. Chakotay's red and black uniform, and Ayala's yellow and black uniform both sported lieutenant JG pips. Both faces were grim, but set with flint-like determination.

After being presented with all the facts, Chakotay and Mike had realised they had no choice. Both men were too cognizant with Paris' methods to do otherwise. Mike in particular. Chakotay, it had to be said, for all of his study of the man, was totally clueless about Paris' work with Section 20.

Miguel Ayala, on the other hand, had been expecting his summons. Just not the way it came. He'd anticipated a private party where he was threatened with all kinds of dire, but all too possible, consequences, if he ever revealed Tom's deepest, darkest secrets. _As if,_ Mike had thought. _I know what the man is capable of. Most of these baby faced kids dressed up in Starfleet uniforms would run screaming home to mummy, if they knew what I know about their precious captain._ Instead he had been totally shocked to find Chakotay already there when the armed guards had escorted him into the Captain's ready room _._

Being offered a position on the Senior Staff as head of Security had been even more unexpected. It shouldn't have been. But it was. And making Chakotay Senior Conn. Yeah, should have seen it a mile away. _Great tactics. Offering just enough to make the bait tasty. Not enough to risk being bitten himself._

Not eligible for command track though, either of them _._ _Nicely played Tom. If we get home no one will ever suspect your true loyalties._ Ayala thought morbidly.

As they reached the large bay doors, the security officers stationed there came smartly to attention. The captain had obviously warned them about the changes. Judging by the looks on their faces, they weren't very happy with the news _. Tough_ , thought Chakotay, _just try messing with me. You'll regret it._ He smirked mockingly as he sailed past. Mike's smirk was just as large. The security officers had been subtly vicious in their treatment of the 'prisoners.' It had stemmed from the now deceased Murphy. That had been made obvious, because of the marked change in the security team's behaviour when the captain was around. _You'll be sorry,_ Mike thought. He smiled. Making sure that Tom know how they'd been treated was better than doing it the 'maquis way'. The maquis way would get them permanent restriction to quarters for the next forty years. This way, it would be the fleeters that suffered. And no one would dare treat the maquis badly again. At least, no one on this ship.

As they walked in, the maquis crew all crowded round. B'Elanna and Seska both stormed up together. Almost immediately, Seska started her strident offensive, publicly deriding them for their new Starfleet uniforms. Chakotay kept his face impassive with effort. Now that it had been pointed out to him, he wondered how he could have ever been taken in. _How long has she been secretly undermining me and my authority? Well, it stops now._

"That's enough!" he declared loudly. "Look around you, Torres, Seska. We are on a Federation ship in the middle of the Delta Quadrant. We don't have a lot of choices here. I made the best choice for our crew. But if any of you don't like that choice, you don't have to take it. Anyone who doesn't want to take the Starfleet option, can choose between being left in the tropical paradise we're currently orbiting or spending the next forty years or so either in the brig or hauling garbage."

Kenneth Dalby sneered back at them. "Yeah, if it's a tropical paradise, why didn't you choose it?"

All around, aggressive murmurs of agreement broke out. "Actually, the planet really is beautiful," Mike affirmed. "We'll be enjoying some of its bounty for dinner, tonight."

Chakotay added. "There is one little downside to it. Apparently, our Alpha Quadrant equipment doesn't work properly there."

"So what?" said someone else, impatiently. "We're farmers, most of us. We don't need technology, not if the land is good."

Chakotay nodded. "That's right, we don't. Maquis are experts at making something out of nothing. That's why it is an option being offered. The problem isn't the planet, itself. The problem is pirates. Although, they don't want to settle the planet themselves, they do want its resources. And they don't want to share." Chakotay paused, looking at three of his youngest crew members, all still teenagers. _What was I thinking, letting them on my ship? I should be shot._

Ayala took up the conversation. "That's something Voyager's landing party found out the hard way, when it was ambushed. Particularly, former security chief Murphy, when a Delta Quadrant pirate took his head off with a sword. And no, I'm not joking. We've seen the body." Across the room satisfaction at the man's death vied with concern for their own future.

"Personally," Chakotay added, "I'm not ready to call it quits, yet. I want to see my home and my friends in the Alpha Quadrant again. I believe my best chance is staying right here, and accepting the olive branch being offered. But that's my choice. You have twenty four hours to make yours."

Chakotay paused long enough in his speech to make eye contact with each member of his crew. "Consider it carefully. Because, this is a one way journey. You're going to be living with that choice for a long time."

"So, we all automatically become Starfleet. Just like that?" Seska sneered.

Mike grinned at her. "Don't you wish?"

Chakotay too was grinning as he responded. "You obviously aren't aware of Captain Paris' reputation, Seska. He is known as one mean hombre. Back when I taught at the academy, I met lots of officer's, including an Admiral once, doing mandatory retraining because they'd ended up on the short end of a disagreement with the man."

He paused, and his grin became positively feral. "Want to know how he took care of the pirates who killed his security officer?" Mike snickered evilly at the question. Seska looked at the two men in confusion. Next to her B'Elanna noticed Mariah Henly, another former fleeter was looking worried. She quickly glanced around at some of the other former fleeters in the group. Most of them looked torn between wanting to know the answer, and being afraid of it.

"Alright, I'll bite. What did he do?" she said, finally.

Chakotay's feral grin relaxed into a smirk. "He ordered them to be blown out of the sky," he said simply.

There was a moment of complete and utter silence. "You mean, he warned them away, and during the ensuing firefight, the pirate ship accidently blew up?" The hesitant statement came from another ex-fleeter. Mike Ayala smiled at the poor man in understanding. "No, Chakotay means that Captain Paris gave them one chance to retreat, and then deliberately ordered tactical to blow them up." He paused to let his comrades absorb the implications. A wonderful technique he'd learned from Paris, back when they'd been agents together. Then, he continued. "I know this man. I used to worked with him before I joined the maquis. And, if you cross him unnecessarily, I won't be bailing you out. Believe me." Mike paused, and then added in a reflective tone. "Actually, I tried to recruit him to our cause. It's too bad really. If Paris had been in charge of our resistance movement, Starfleet would have surrendered, already."

Chell, a normally ebullient Bolian, started pacing worriedly. "Oh ooh, he's that Captain Paris! Oh, my cousin told me about him. He took a temporary assignment on the Enterprise once, as First Officer. Captain Paris, that is. My cousin's the Enterprise barber. Oh my goodness! Mean doesn't even begin to cover it. He made a Vulcan cry once. Well, it turns out she was sick. And, he apologized when he found that out. But really. That's not the point…."

"Chell!" Chakotay said in exasperation. "You're not helping."

"Besides," said Ayala. "He's not that bad. Just don't do anything to mess with him, and you'll be fine. He's not totally unreasonable. If you do a good job, he'll be just as quick with a compliment."

"Okay, so like Seska said, we just become fleeters?" B'Elanna asked, in disbelief. "How is that going to work?" Chakotay hesitated. "Any former fleeters will be formally reinstated, at rank. Unless, like me you were a commanding officer. As you can see, lieutenant JG is the top opening rank being offered to us. That isn't to say that promotion isn't possible. It is, just not on the command track. Not yet. Not until we've proved ourselves. Everyone else has the choice of on-the-job training combined with working their way through the Starfleet Academy program. Or you can take a civilian job such as ship maintenance."

As the rumbles of discontent started up again, Mike deliberately ignored Seska's loud complaints and barbed comments. He put up his hand to get their attention. "Now, hold on, just one moment! If the situation was reversed, what would we be doing? How would we be treating them? If you're being honest with yourself, you'd recognize that we're being offered a fair deal, here. Better than we would have offered them."

Lon Suder didn't care. He hated Starfleet, all of them. And if Chakotay and Mike were Starfleet now, that made them the enemy. With quiet menace, he stepped towards Mike ready to take him out. Chakotay stepped in the way. A second later, Suder was down and out for the count. With a harsh glare at Seska, Chakotay raised his voice. "I am still your captain. You will all be quiet! Right now. And that means you too, Seska."

"As I said, you have the choice to remain behind on the planet. Stay or go. Your choice. Irrespectively, Starfleet protocol requires each of us to undergo a physical. Mike and I have already done ours. Seska, Tuvok congratulations. Captain Paris wants to be sure that your injuries have healed properly. You're next." He smiled grimly, glad of the excuse they'd concocted in order to legitimately get Seska personally checked over by the EMH.

Two minutes later, Tuvok and Seska had been escorted out. Chakotay wasted no time in sharing the unpalatable facts regarding Seska with the rest of his crew.

As he spoke, he saw the same progression of disbelief, horror, sorrow and anger in their faces that he had experienced. As the questions and accusations arose, he and Mike carefully answered while directing the conversation. Slowly, shockingly, as each person added their small piece of the picture to the table, the truth became unassailable.

The collective anger was palpable, as they considered exactly who the real enemy here was. The fact that Seska had been ruthlessly spreading her vicious poison within their own ranks against the Starfleet crew was reconsidered against the true facts. Ashmore summed it up with a classic, timeless quote. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_. In light of Seska's betrayal, attitudes towards the 'Fleeters' turned. Chakotay was right. After all, the fleeters hadn't needed to rescue them. They could have gone their way and left the Val Jean crew to their own fate. Maybe, this crew of fleeters, at least, deserved a second chance.

There was only one thing left to discuss. What were they going to do about Seska now.


	19. Chapter 19

Thomson kept one hand carefully on his phaser as he escorted his former commanding officer Tuvok, and the Maquis rebel, Seska, through the corridor outside Cargo Bay 2. The captain had already warned him that the Commander was suffering from a head injury and should be treated like any other rebel for now. Thomson knew that he wasn't the only one upset with that turn of affairs. He scowled viciously as he wondered what he could possibly have done in his short and exemplary twenty-four years of life to have deserved being flung half way across the galaxy and handed a life sentence serving under the infamous Captain Paris. _So much for my short three-week shortcut into an easy transfer to Mars Colony to be with Beth._

As they neared the end of the corridor he noticed a subtle change in the Bajoran's movement. He tensed imperceptibly, ready for the attack that the newly promoted 'Lieutenant Ayala' had assured the security detail would be attempted. Of course, he'd had no intentions of letting his guard down _. I know how to do my job and I don't need no Maquis turncoat telling me how to do it, neither_. Except that the Captain had made the Maquis traitor his senior Officer, so he had no choice in the matter. Turning the corner, he gave a subtle nod.

Even as he was ducking out of the way of the anticipated knife attack, Thompson was firing his phasers. The backup team were quick to pour out of their set hiding places. He involuntarily smiled as the second of Ayala's very impressive, and apparently genuine, safeguards took effect. A second later they were all materializing in sickbay; the two unconscious 'rebels' now safely held behind a restraining force field.

"Ah," said the EMH, "my next two patients." Walking through the barrier he approached Tuvok first. A full hour later, the EMH turned his attention to the still unconscious Seska.

Chakotay and Ayala both looked up as the Captain entered the cargo bay and headed towards them. B'Elanna scowled and stomped toward them also.

"Well," she said aggressively, "What's the verdict?"

Tom arched an eyebrow. His voice was cool and dismissive as he replied, "I wasn't aware that you'd been promoted over Chakotay to the position of Maquis Captain, Torres." Then, turning abruptly toward Chakotay and Ayala, he side-stepped in front of the Klingon - effectively cutting her out of the conversation. "I have the results of the medical examination, Lieutenant."

After staring B'Elanna into silence, Chakotay stood impassively as Captain Paris confirmed his worst fears.

"It's definite. Seska is a Cardassian. She's still sedated. And, I have a suggestion as to how I'd like to play this out, if you're agreeable."


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: A large portion of the conversation is an edited, amalgamated version of what happened over several episodes of the show, further tweaked to fit the Dark Angel Universe.

Chakotay entered the sickbay and walked up to Seska's bed. He nodded to the EMH who promptly used a hypospray to bring Seska back to consciousness, before deleting himself.

Seska opened her eyes and looked up at Chakotay, reaching out her hand to him. "Chakotay, what's going on?"

Chakotay ignored the outstretched hand. His own hands clenched tightly into fists at his side. "Why don't you tell me, Seska. The security team informed the Captain that you attacked them on the way to sickbay."

Seska sat up immediately. "Attacked them! Chakotay, you can't really believe that. I was defending myself. They simply attacked Tuvok and me for no reason."

"That's not true. The Security camera in the corridor clearly shows you reaching for your weapon first. How did you even get that knife? We were all disarmed when we were transported to Voyager."

Seska got out of the sickbay bed and hugged Chakotay tightly. "Darling, what is wrong with you? Why are you siding with these people? They're our enemy, Chakotay. They abandoned us. Left our people to be slaughtered? How can you believe their lies about me?"

Chakotay took a moment to look at the woman in his arms. The woman who had been his lover – his only lover - for the better part of the last year and a half. She looked so sincere and heart broken. He could feel the strong tug of his heart strings. He wanted to believe her; deny the truth that recent facts had revealed. Right now, he didn't know if it was his heart or his pride that was hurting the most. But he couldn't afford to be wrong again. He needed to play this scene out to the bitter end.

"These people, Seska? Captain Paris and his crew saved our lives. We were minutes from a warp core breach when they rescued us from the Kazon attack."

"What the hell is going on?" Seska's face was a perfect mixture of feminine outrage and hurt disbelief for a moment before she tightened her grip on him. "Chakotay, please! Don't do this to us." She lay her face against his shoulder.

Calling on all his reserve, he shunted his feelings aside. "There's some concern about you."

"What kind of concern?"

"Concern because the security team found this on you after you were beamed to sick bay." Chakotay pushed Seska away before holding up a small piece of technology the size of a grape. "It's a homing transporter device set to match Kazon shipboard technology."

"Oh, I see. So now I'm a traitor. I sell technology to the enemy."

"Of course not. It's completely coincidental that our 'Kazon allies' were being so successful in breaching our shields while firing on us and demanding that we surrender to them before Voyager arrived on the scene."

"You can't really be blaming me for their attack."

"You were the one who suggested and brokered our temporary alliance with the Kazon-Nistrim."

"But you agreed with me that we needed to forge an alliance in order to have enough backing to convince the 'Caretaker' to send us home.

"I agreed to trade food, water and medical supplies in exchange for assistance in getting the Caretaker to talk to us on a more equal footing.

"To do that and survive, we needed powerful friends. The Kazon-Nistrim were willing to be our protectors in return for some minor technology."

"Minor technology to us maybe. But that minor technology could change the balance of power in this quadrant."

"Change it in our favour! That is all that matters at this point. Building a base of power in this quadrant. A base of power that with the help of the Caretaker's array will bring us a swift and vital victory back home."

"I never agreed to that Seska."

Seska looked uncomfortable but contrite. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I had no idea that the Kazon would double cross us that way."

" Really?"

Seska's eyes widened. "Of course not."

"That's not what Maj Varoul told Captain Paris. He says that you made a private deal with the Kazon Nistrim trading our lives and our ship for your own private passage home once the Caretaker was defeated by them."

"That's a lie, Chakotay. A Federation lie."

"You know, it's funny. I've been thinking about what's been real and what's not been real."

She choked on a sob. "What's wrong with you? Talk to me. You owe me that much."

"What would you say I owe to a Cardassian who infiltrated my crew?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Turns out your blood is missing all the common Bajoran blood factors."

"It's a side effect of Orkett's disease. Ask your doctor."

"Orkett's disease?"

"A childhood virus that swept through the Bajoran work camps during the occupation. Thousands of children didn't survive. I did, thanks to a bone marrow transplant from a sympathetic Cardassian woman. Her name was Kattell. When we get home, you can ask her yourself." Seska paused and sobbed wretchedly. "You must think I'm horrible. Do you think I gave you my, my heart to get your Maquis secrets?"

"I'm starting to wonder. Especially since Captain Paris had already informed me several days ago that Starfleet Security has documented several incidents in which Cardassians have used cosmetic alterations for the purpose of infiltrating an enemy. Just as it appears Seska, that you have been genetically altered in order to infiltrate the Maquis."

"Let me tell you something. Your secrets weren't good enough. They wouldn't have been worth the trouble for a Cardassian agent. I had only one agenda with you, Chakotay, and I never kept it secret. I love you." Seska took his hands into hers and held them to her chest.

"So, do you believe in me again?"

"I want to." Chakotay retorted softly before pulling his hands away and taking a step back. "Computer, activate EMH."

The EMH re-appeared instantly. "Ah. Have I been called to testify?"

Chakotay looked at Seska, resolution firmly etched on his face. "Before you even mentioned Orkett's disease to me, the Doctor had already discounted that as a possible explanation for your blood anomalies."

"And may I say," pronounced the doctor, "a doctor less informed about Bajoran medicine might have been fooled, but my programme includes the complete Bajoran medical text on Orkett's disease. There's no way any childhood virus or Cardassian bone marrow transplant can explain away the genetic markers in your blood. You are Cardassian, young woman."

With a lurch Seska attempted to grab the transponder from Chakotay, yelling for the EMH to be deactivated as she did so. Chakotay found himself alone fending off the sudden physical assault. He put up a reasonable amount of resistance before allowing the device to drop to the floor. Seska immediately kicked him hard in the groin before picking it up.

From the floor, Chakotay gasped desperately at her. "Seska don't do this. We can work out a deal with the federation for you."

"A deal with the federation? You really are a fool, Chakotay. I don't know what I ever saw in you."

Seska smiled cruelly at her former lover as she pushed the button. "Until next time, my love." Chakotay lay pain stricken on the floor as the Bajoran-looking Cadassian Obsidian Order Agent shimmered out of sight.


End file.
